


swim through nights that won't end

by la_victorienne



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-30
Updated: 2009-01-30
Packaged: 2018-10-16 01:00:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10560716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/la_victorienne/pseuds/la_victorienne





	

Snow began to fall, and so did the temperature. This, however, did  
not bother the Company much, except when they had to bare their  
backsides to pass hraka in some nook among the cliffs, wiping with  
snow that was happily newly-fallen and soft, not composed of hard  
sharp grains. Nor were they troubled much by the rising wind, which  
made the snow swirl.

The Fellowship of the Ring, Book ii, Chapter 3  
J. R. R. Tolkien

Ianto watches as Owen slings a bulky parka arm over Tosh’s equally bulky shoulders, drawing her close in a movement of camaraderie Ianto knows is breaking her heart. Snow is drifting from the clouds above, re-dusting the white-capped mountain with a fine powder that Gwen thinks would be perfect for snowballs, or snowmen, or wrapping Owen up in and rolling him down the mountain like in the funny pictures. Ianto tuned her out a mile and a half ago, but his mouth quirks in a smile when she nudges against him, and he wraps an arm around her in easy mimicry of Owen ahead of him. The snow hasn’t gotten offensive, yet, and their feet haven’t started to go numb, and the Himalayas really are beautiful – yes, there is a place for smiling on this godforsaken mission, while the Hub gathers dust he knows he’ll have to clean up. In their pairs they march up a particularly easy section of the mountain, kiang trailing behind them carrying much of the travel gear, in a comfortable formation that, Ianto realizes, defines them very clearly as a team.

They’ve been on this mission for three weeks now and on the mountain for a good two and a half. Everything seems to be going well, and Ianto wonders from time to time if Jack is having as much fun with the Doctor as he is with his erstwhile superiors. Welcomed and accepted, he has the freedom to retaliate when Owen takes the piss out of him; forgiven and valuable, his is the sleeping bag into which the girls crawl when they have bad dreams, or when they’re cold, or when Owen’s snoring keeps waking them. He’s never felt so connected to a group, from his high school anti social nature to his individual attachment to Lisa in London – here, he feels like he has not just a team, he has a family.

He wonders if this is how Jack feels with the Doctor.

He still thinks about Jack more than he ought to.

He takes all of his cues now from the way Jack used to be – firm when dealing with Owen, gentle with Tosh, flirtatious with Gwen. He doesn’t pretend to be the man Jack was, but neither is he the man who kept his girlfriend locked in the basement, hoping vainly to save her from herself. He’s becoming someone new, someone discontent to sit in the background and watch the world pass by around him. And without Jack around to delegate, without Jack to hide behind, without Jack to bitch at and fight with and make love to – Ianto is finally learning the parts of himself he never knew were there. His capacity for strength, his sharp wit and sharper tongue, his self-sacrificing love for each of these misguided people, and he lost along with them. He adjusts his maroon scarf with one hand and squeezes Gwen closer with the other before letting her go.

The path gets steeper.


End file.
